


Puppy Love

by Feral_Fic_Writer



Series: The Key to a Happy Pack [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dominant/Submissive dynamics, Except Damon, M/M, Puppy Play, Ramsay's Boys have been turned into his dogs in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28651686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feral_Fic_Writer/pseuds/Feral_Fic_Writer
Summary: Ramsay is on the prowl for a new bitch. He thinks he's found him.The start of "The Key to  Happy Pack."
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Damon Dance-for-Me, Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy
Series: The Key to a Happy Pack [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099742
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Puppy Love

**Author's Note:**

> If you're confused about the author name change, I posted this under a different penname I was using as a warm-up account but then decided I really wanted it to be under my Feral fics.
> 
> For those who follow Feral, I plan to return to my fics this year and resume writing. Those fics deleted from my account this fall will be edited, completed and republished.
> 
> Thank you for hanging with me as I sort myself out. The past couple years have not been easy (for most of us, I think.)

The morning mist was still rising in the fields when Ramsay stepped out of the farmhouse. He found Damon behind the barn that served as their kennel, already knee deep in a new hole, shovel flying. 

The Bolton Kennel’s boys laid scattered around. The hounds too busy eating their breakfast to rise and greet him, a few thick tails thumped at his approach.

Damon stood up from his digging and leaned on his shovel. “You’re looking mighty dressed up. I thought you were going to help me today.”

“Have I ever helped you dig?” Ramsay rolled his eyes. “I’m the brains. You’re the labor. I thought that had been established.”

Damon snorted and spat but didn’t argue.

“I’m heading into the city. Going to be gone a while.”

“Oh?”

Ramsay met Damon’s questioning look with a grin. “I have a lead on a new bitch.” That got Damon’s interest in a hurry.

“Really? That’s great. That last one was a bit of a bust. ”

Nodding, Ramsay got momentarily distracted by a snarling scuffle between Skinner and Grunt over the last scraps of meat on the ribcage they’d been sharing. There was a flash of white fangs, snapped jaws, and a yelp. 

Skinner dragged his prize under a bare-limbed bush to enjoy his spoils in solitude. Grunt skulked around whining for a few moments before he darted in to steal a femur from Luton’s bone pile. 

“Mmmhmm. Well, I got a good feeling about this one. Could be a bit complicated though. Not just another stray picked up off the roadside. This bitch has an impressive pedigree. But we might be able to use that to our favor.”

“Sounds promising.”

“It is,” Ramsay agreed, turning away from his Boys’ antics. His mind automatically rolled over his plans again. He felt so good about their prospects, in fact, he stepped over and took Damon’s face between his hands, then took his mouth for a dirty, tongued-filled minute.

“Make sure you go down five feet, at least,” he said upon breaking their kiss, tapping the shovel handle with the steel toe of a well-shined boot. As he walked off toward the van he called over his shoulder, “and get _ALL_ the bones back from the Boys this time before you start filling it in!”

* * *

The coffee shop sat in a quieter corner of the city. Still, it was just as hipster pretentious as Ramsay feared he’d find it. His eyes swept over the occupied tables. Locked on his target he headed over.

“Hey there. Theon Winterfell?”

The sort of bold appellation rich parents bestowed on their brats to affirm delusions of capitalist royalty, the name “Theon”, Ramsay thought, was ridiculous. And unlike “Winterfell” it was also, foolishly, real.

At his hail a lush head of copper and gold tones looked up from a book held by uncalloused, fine-boned fingers. A month of website chat correspondence, and all the side research into learning Theon’s full identity still had not prepared Ramsay for the fluttery twist in his gut when large, seaglass-green eyes met him in real time.

“Oh, hey! Ray Snow, right?” 

Ramsay painted on a smile and nodded at his own faux title. If things went well there would be plenty of time for Theon to learn his true name later. 

Closing the oceanography text he’d been reading Theon stood up to shake his hand. 

“Good to finally meet you in person.”

Firm grip, crisp clothes, an expensive leather jacket: all the trappings of well-bred privilege signaled in an instant. Theon invited him to join him at his table with a sweeping gesture. However, Ramsay waited for him to sit back down first, immediately determining he preferred the view standing over Theon much more than sitting across from him.

A second wave of Theon’s hand instantly conjured a sweet-faced waitress to their table. Rather than be off put by his imperiousness she fawned. Clearly, from his confident demeanor he not only enjoyed her response, it was something he was used to. 

The moment the waitress wandered away to procure Ramsay’s ordered black coffee Theon leaned back in his chair and offered with the conviction of experience, “I could fuck her in the bathroom five minutes from now if I wanted to.” 

This cocksuredness stirred up the sludge in the black pool of Ramsay’s soul. It was a potent sensation. He gave a non-committal hum in reply. Then he leaned in just slightly, hardpressed not to grin when Theon followed, mirroring his posture.

“But that’s not why we’re here. Is it?”

The flicker of rawness in Theon’s eyes at the question lasted only an instant, but for Ramsay it was perfect. After all, with the right tending to, a single small seed could be cultivated into a tree capable of bearing delicious fruit for years.

After just a beat too long Theon laughed. “No. Uh. I guess not.” 

Spots of color bloomed on high cheekbones. He rubbed the carefully manicured stubble along the base of his jaw; an unconscious gesture of unease Ramsay found delicious. Now it was his turn to lean back in his chair. Arms crossed across his chest he smirked. 

“Well, I came here to talk to a man about a dog so how about we get started?”

* * *

“I got a suite.” Theon swiped the key card and the door swung open. “I thought having some room would make it easier. A dog needs space to run around.”

Ramsay followed silently behind. On the low end of upscale, the room was tasteful. Large. With its open floor plan there was plenty of space for a pup to gambol. He moved over to the kitchen/dining area and set the black leather valise he’d brought with him on the table. Theon sloughed out of his jacket and draped it over a chairback. 

Beyond the effort it had taken to build their online rapport, Ramsay had now endured coffee shop small talk and Theon’s self-important babble on the walk to the hotel too. Tired of it all he was ready to get down to business. 

“So how about you trot out this puppy I've waited so long to see.”

Theon blinked in surprise. “Just like that?”

Ramsay shook his head and grinned. “Why not? What are you waiting for? We filled out the papers over coffee. All the details are in order. Not to mention we’ve been discussing this for a month.”

“Yeah. Okay. Right.” Color flooded Theon’s pale cheeks again. He undid the top button of his shirt and ran a finger around the loosened neck.

Ramsay opened his valise. 

“Here, maybe this will make this whole thing a little easier for you. I brought a collar.” He pulled a thick strip of soft black leather out. Its silver buckle gleamed. “It doesn’t have a tag yet, but I’ll get one later if this works out.”

Eyes fixed on the collar, Theon’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He swallowed harder when Ramsay stepped close, reached up, and slipped it around his throat. As it was fastened Theon began to ramble again. 

“Yeah. Alright. We’re really doing this.” He tipped his chin up slightly to give Ramsay better access. “I uh… I have to say, I was relieved to see you actually looked like your pictures. 

“I mean, like I’ve told you before... this isn’t really sexual, not in _that_ way... so how you look isn’t the point here, I know. But, I guess, it was just reassuring that you weren’t catfishing me or something. And...” 

As soon as the collar was buckled Ramsay pressed a finger to Theon’s lips. “Shhh… Dogs don’t talk now. Do they?”

Quick to catch on, Theon offered a nervous smile. God but his teeth were perfect. Ramsay had to fight the sudden impulse to knock out a few. Instead, he gave a light pat to his cheek.

“Good boy.” 

It was one of the reward phrases requested in the “pet play” contract Theon filled out in the coffee shop. The effect of it was immediate. Tidepool eyes glittered, and fragile creatures darted and fluttered in their depths. 

Ramsay’s cock throbbed.

Theon’s fingers fumbled with the next button down on his shirt until Ramsay stopped him, setting his hand over them. 

“Puppies don’t have fingers either.”

After a pause, Theon nodded his head and, slowly, his hands sank to his sides.

“Mmmm… good boy,” Ramsay offered again, as he began undoing the buttons himself.

“As was said, this isn’t sexual per se.” _Yet,_ his mind supplied. “This is about letting go. Relaxing. Allowing your mind to slip into a space where the only thing that matters is being present.”

He pushed Theon’s button-down off his shoulders. Beneath it a tight t-shirt hugged a lean but surprisingly well-muscled frame. Overshirt sent fluttering to the floor Ramsay’s fingers plucked at the t-shirt hem and pulled upwards to reveal a tight, lightly furred belly.

While he made quick work of the belt and opened the fly of elite denims he allowed Theon to kick out of his shoes. Sliding jeans and tight black boxers down off narrow hips, the totality of Theon’s blessings were revealed. Still shrunk within a nest of manicured thatch, atop plump balls, rested a gorgeous cock, sizable even in repose and uncut. 

Swallowing his annoyance at all Theon’s undeserved gifts, Ramsay gritted his teeth and kept his voice light.

“There. Doesn’t that feel better? Free. Nothing constraining your doggy limbs?” He gave an encouraging pat to an artfully freckled shoulder. Exerting a little pressure after, Ramsay encouraged Theon down to his knees. 

Urgency had always guided his past bitch selection. Now, although he directed his own platform, Ramsay could have kicked himself for not seeking out other fetish sites earlier for recruitment.

It had definitely been worth all the slow finessing, he decided, when Theon, finally on all fours, stared up at him. Nervous. Wary. Waiting. It was a beautiful look. 

One he was eager to hone.

Another “good boy” and a tousle of hair had Theon’s eyes going hazy. Ramsay’s heart pounded with the possibility he might have finally found the perfect pet. He pulled a rubber ball, a bag of “treats”, and a leash from the valise. He bent and clipped the leash to the collar’s sturdy “D” ring and gave Theon’s head another ruffle.

“All you need to do now, pup, is let your owner take care of you.”

* * *

“Worn out yet?” 

Staring down, the answer was obvious. Theon panted around the blue ball in his mouth. His sides heaved with heavy breaths and his naked skin shone with sweat. The ball hit the floor and rolled until a boot stopped it.

Theon crawled forward and bumped his head against Ramsay’s knee, damp hair two shades darker. 

Ramsay had put him through his paces earlier to help him move into his puppy headspace. Leashed and led around the hotel room he was then run through combinations of “sit, shake, stay, lie down, and rollover” to earn malted-milk ball treats.

There was a quick lesson too in dog show confirmation: Theon posed and made to hold his position while hands ran over him in a judge’s style inspection. He'd fallen so deep into headspace he barely blushed when this made him hard.

The reward for successful completion of all these obedience lessons was the hour-long playtime of tug-a-war and fetch just completed.

“Wondered if you were ever going to wear out. Frisky thing.” 

Darting into the bathroom Ramsay emerged with a towel. Theon stayed still, as a good hound should, while he was wiped down.

Towel thrown over a chair, Ramsay settled down onto the couch. He gave the cushion beside him a pat. Theon cocked his head in a way that was remarkably doglike and blinked.

“Up. Come on.” Ramsay tapped the upholstery again. “We won’t make a habit of it, but you were a pretty well behaved pup today.”

Theon slipped up onto the couch. With a hand on his collar, Ramsay urged him to curl up on his side, head in his lap so he could pet him. When strong fingers began to rub his head Theon closed his eyes and sighed. 

“There’s a good boy.”

His appetite for this phrase apparently endless Theon made a low contented noise at the praise.

Ramsay kept his petting up, pleased to have the opportunity to stare unobserved. Grown hungrier throughout their time together, he gorged on the vision of Theon’s still, bare form. Pale skin, sparse gingerish fur. Though his knees looked painfully abraded at the moment from dashing over the carpet, despite his age and athletic inclinations, Theon’s body was a remarkably pristine canvas. 

Ramsay couldn’t wait to change this.

Theon’s lean sides soon revealed his breath’s new cadence and Ramsay realized he’d drifted off. Head pillowed on his thigh, just inches from the hardest erection he’d ever known, this degree of trust so early on amazed him. With some careful shifting he extricated himself. Tucking a throw pillow under Theon’s damp head elicited some soft sounds of protest but no rousing.

He retrieved his phone from his bag and snapped a dozen pictures to share with Damon later. With some careful cropping it would be a great tease for their online viewers too. As he packed up toys and treats, Ramsay struggled. He wanted to bundle Theon up and take him home right then. But, he reminded himself, he always got caught up in the currents of puppy love when he took on a new bitch. It was too soon yet.

Besides, the hotel had cameras in the hallways and, while Theon had declared multiple times no one knew what he was up to, with his family ties there would undoubtedly be action taken when he disappeared.

Leaving Theon softly snoring on the sofa there was cold comfort in the knowledge he’d given him what he’d so desperately craved. There was heat too, however, in leaving now, this way. Theon would come to, still collared, alone and left wondering, his particular needs even more acutely awakened. 

Pleased with his restraint Ramsay closed the door quietly behind him, humming. Confident he'd get his own cravings met soon enough, his body buzzed with anticipation. He wondered how long it would take this particular bitch to again seek out his new and rightful master.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for joining me in this ramble.
> 
> Particular gratitude goes to Nanners (nanjcsy) and Dreamcoat for their kind encouragement.


End file.
